


footprints in the slush of ourselves

by sci_fis



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: (due to the slavery issue), Alpha Jensen, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Genevieve, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hurt Jensen, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Omega Jared, Polyamory, Slave Jensen, knotting (Jensen/Jared), pegging (Gen/Jared)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21669463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sci_fis/pseuds/sci_fis
Summary: In a world where omegas and betas cannot stay mated unless the omega becomes pregnant by an alpha donor within a year after the mating ceremony, Genevieve and Jared are forced to arrange for an alpha slave to impregnate Jared.
Relationships: Genevieve Cortese/Jared Padalecki, Genevieve/Jared/Jensen, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 8
Kudos: 128





	footprints in the slush of ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Reversebang for an amazing art prompt by darklittleheart96! Check out the art post [here on tumblr](https://darklittleheart96.tumblr.com/post/189468262790/).

Genevieve

‘Hey,’ Genevieve says. ‘It’s gonna be okay. You know that, right?’

Next to her, Jared’s knee is jiggling with nerves. His thumbnail is between his teeth at the corner of his mouth.

Gen puts her hand on his anxious knee. ‘Jared?’

‘Yeah,’ he says finally, turning to her. ‘Still doesn’t mean I don’t hate this.’

‘I know.’

‘I know you do.’ Jared smiles a little, and the sight is heartening like nothing else.

The car pulls up a minute later in front of a large, sterile-looking building: the Alpha House. The name, Gen thinks, is almost completely a misnomer. It sounds like a halfway home, a rest house of some sort, and looks like a hospice.

In actuality, it’s a place where alphas are sent to die. Or worse.

—

‘Ms Cortese and Mr Padalecki? Dr Smith will see you now.’

Osric, the friendly assistant they’ve become used to seeing, summons them into Dr Sam Smith’s office. Gen smiles at him, hoping her nervousness doesn’t show on her face.

‘Gen, Jared, welcome,’ Sam says, smiling warmly as she rises from her chair to greet them.

‘Hi, Sam,’ Jared says. He’s not meeting her eyes, and Gen knows the feeling.

‘Is it done?’ Gen asks, figuring that none of them are up to small talk at the moment.

‘Yes,’ Sam says, her good humor undeterred. She slides a file across the desk.

Jared silently picks it up and opens it. Gen’s eyes widen at the photograph of the alpha on the first page. He’s absolutely stunning.

‘ _This_ guy is a slave?’ Jared says, eyebrows raised. ‘He looks like a model for GQ.’

‘He was a lawyer, actually,’ Sam says. ‘More than that. He has two doctorates. Taught criminal law at the top-ranked university in the state.’

‘What happened?’ Gen asks. Her gaze is caught by the photo. In it, the alpha—Jensen Ackles, age 40—is smiling at the camera, ridiculously gorgeous crinkles at the corners of his eyes, his broad shoulders encased in an elegant, form-fitting black coat. He’s wearing a crisp white dress shirt underneath, a dark maroon tie with a perfect Windsor knot at his throat. 

‘I don’t know for sure,’ Sam says, looking less than thrilled with the situation. ‘He was brought in last week. I’ve asked for his case history, but the previous institution where he was being held has been curiously silent so far.’

‘He’s… he’s on death row?’ Jared asks, his voice curiously soft.

‘If he doesn’t get sold within a month, probably.’

—

Jared

The alpha they see through the two-way mirror bears little resemblance to the gorgeous professor in the photograph.

Gen puts her hand on Jared’s, and he takes it and squeezes it.

They watch through the mirror at the alpha, dressed in a plain blue jumpsuit, stares at a fixed spot on the floor as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, his chained hands clasped between his knees. There are shackles around his ankles too, a thick, heavy-looking chain attached to them and connected to his wrist cuffs. He’s heavily bearded.

‘Are those really necessary?’ Gen asks. Jared knows what she’s talking about.

‘Dr Ackles has been… rather aggressive,’ Samantha says. ‘He nearly choked one of the orderlies the day he arrived here.’

‘Then how on earth is Jared supposed to… to _knot_ with him?’ Gen asks.

‘Sedation.’ Sam doesn’t meet their eyes.

‘No,’ Jared says immediately, a sick, swooping feeling in his stomach. ‘I—no. No way.’

‘Jared, he’s good stock. The other alpha slaves are criminals and hooligans. No matter what Ackles did, you can be sure his genes are good.’

‘Good stock? For fuck’s sake, he’s not an object.’ Jared is surprised to hear his generally sweet-natured beta swearing, but he can’t really blame her.

‘I’m surprised at you,’ he tells Sam, moving closer to Gen. ‘I thought—I really thought your thinking was more in line with ours.’

‘And in what way is my thinking different from yours?’ Sam asks, unruffled. ‘You think it’s ethical in any way to use an alpha slave to get pregnant? Look,’ she goes on quickly as Gen opens her mouth to reply, cutting her off. ‘I know. I know, all right? You two don’t have a choice. But neither do I. I’m here to make sure the prisoners in this compound get the best deal they can. Ackles has not acted like an innocent man. Any other supervisor would’ve had him euthanized the same day.’

Jared grimaces, an expression he sees mirrored on Gen’s face. Samantha is right. Even if her words seem cold and unfair, her actions have probably saved the alpha’s life.

He and Gen stand close to each other, watching in silent horror as the door to the alpha’s room opens and four orderlies enter.

The absurd amount of manpower demonstrates that Sam was right about the alpha’s aggressiveness, but it isn’t needed. Ackles stays curiously still as the largest of the staff quickly sticks a needle into the side of his neck. In seconds, he slumps in his seat, his body horribly vulnerable and unresponsive.

He’s restrained on a stretcher with thick, wide straps and wheeled out of the room. 

—

The ride home is about a million times worse than the drive to the Alpha House.

Jared tries once or twice to say something, but each time he turns to Gen, her eyes are too bright, her expression so stricken that the words he’s willing himself to say turn to ashes in his mouth.

What are they doing?

 _This is for the best_ , he tells himself. _We need this. We don’t have a choice._

_And at least we’ve bought him a few days’ reprieve._

—

Genevieve

‘What’s the problem?’ Frank Cortese asks, looking from Gen to Jared.

They’re at the dinner table that night, and Gen and Jared have barely touched their plates.

‘Nothing,’ Gen says quickly.

‘The truth, please.’

‘We have a slave in the house,’ Jared says, putting down his fork. ‘How is that _not_ a problem?’

‘Jared,’ Gen begins. They’ve discussed this. 

‘No, no. Let the omega speak,’ Frank says courteously. It’s a show.

Gen winces, sensing Jared going completely still. She doesn’t dare look at him. 

‘The omega,’ Jared says carefully, ‘didn’t sign up for drugging an alpha and forcing him to have sex with him.’

‘The ugly things you say,’ Frank says pleasantly. ‘I suppose no one taught you manners in that trailer park where you grew up.’

‘Dad,’ Gen says, sharper than she’d intended to. ‘Jared is from a perfectly respectable family, as you well know. You wouldn’t have allowed us to marry otherwise.’

‘I always do what’s best for you, my dear,’ her father says, still in that faux-genial tone, as though they’re discussing a football match. ‘And clearly, if you want to stay with your chosen husband, you must do as the law demands. I see no reason to throw a fit over doing something completely legal.’

‘Just because it’s legal doesn’t make it right.’

‘Then don’t do it.’ Frank stands up and tosses his napkin—real cloth, reeking of old money like everything in the Cortese household—on his plate. He smiles at them both. ‘But think about this: either you use a slave to do the needful, or your marriage legally ends in a week’s time.’ Still smiling genially at them both, he nods good night and leaves.

‘Can’t you just tell that he was whistling in his head?’ Jared says, bitter.

‘I’m sorry,’ Gen says, looping her arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head.

Jared sighs, resting his head against her shoulder. ‘The worst part is, he’s right.’

‘Do you think we should, I don’t know… look for other options?’

‘Are there any?’ Jared asks, helpless.

Gen knows there aren’t, not really.

They’ve discussed their choices until they were hoarse. The only other realistic option is to get into an arrangement with an alpha of high social standing, probably one of her father’s associates, who will then have a legal claim on their child for the rest of their lives. Neither Gen nor Jared can stand the thought of that.

—

Jensen

When Jensen wakes, he can tell it’s fairly late in the morning by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows in the room he’s in.

His first thought is that it’s been weeks since he was in a room with actual windows.

He’s on a pretty huge bed, and a rather comfortable one by the feel of it.

‘Hello,’ a voice says, fairly calmly.

Jensen turns his head, forcing his fuzzy vision to focus. It’s a beta, and she’s sitting next to the bed on a plush cream armchair that perfectly matches the decor of the room.

‘I’m Genevieve, but most people call me Gen,’ she says. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like someone dosed me with enough tranqs to fell an elephant.’ Jensen’s mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton for several hours.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Genevieve says. She actually sounds sincere. ‘It wasn’t our idea.’

‘Who’s _our_?’ Jensen tries to sit up, and finds to his amazement that he can. He isn’t restrained in any way. Then his hand goes to the thing around his neck.

‘Classy,’ he says, recognizing the horribly familiar texture of a metal shock collar.

‘ _Our_ is me and my husband Jared.’ Genevieve gestures with the remote control to the collar that she’s holding in her hand. ‘And yes, this wasn’t our idea either. It’s regulation. If we don’t comply, you’ll be taken away.’

‘And wouldn’t that be tragic.’ Jensen looks around the room. Despite how huge it is, he can tell that it isn’t the master bedroom; there are no personal items in sight. It must be one of the guest rooms.

‘Is sarcasm the only setting you speak in?’ Genevieve says, raising her eyebrows.

‘Is hiring a sex slave the only way you can get knocked up?’ Jensen says in retaliation. 

‘I,’ Genevieve says, getting to her feet, ‘have no interest in alphas.’ She looks disgusted at the very idea.

Pleased to have riled her, Jensen says, ‘You sure, sweetheart? I’ll bet you all your daddy’s fortune that I could have you screaming my name in no time.’

Genevieve’s hand twitches on the remote, and for a moment, Jensen thinks he’s gone too far. He braces himself for the electric shock, keeping eye contact with her, careful to keep his confident grin in place.

Genevieve’s lips are pressed together in a thin line. After a moment of silence, she turns around and leaves the room.

—

Jared

‘He’s a complete asshole,’ Gen says, throwing the hated remote on the sofa and wiping her hands on her shirt, as though trying to scrub her hands clean of it.

‘You went to see him?’ Jared looks up from his paperwork. ‘Without me?’

‘Your heat is almost here,’ Gen reminds him. ‘I didn’t want him to trigger it earlier than you’re ready for it.’

‘Yeah, that’s probably for the best,’ Jared mutters. ‘So, that bad, huh?’

‘I think he’s probably just overcompensating for the position he’s in.’ Gen pours herself a coffee from the ever-ready machine and sits down on the sofa. ‘Can’t really blame him.’

‘Is he doing okay? He was pretty heavily sedated.’

‘Seems to be.’

‘You didn’t shock him, did you?’ Jared glances at the remote, uneasy.

‘It’s not because I wasn’t tempted to, believe me.’

Jared gets up and kisses his wife on top of her head. ‘I wish I’d been there.’

‘I handled it,’ Gen says shortly.

Jared knows she hates the situation as much as he does. He slides his hand into her hair. ‘Hey,’ he says. ‘You wanna… do some fun stuff to destress?’

She gives him a quick grin. ‘Now?’

‘Why not? The alpha’s being looked after, right?’

‘Yeah. In fact, dad told me to clear off for a while so he can discuss things with the alpha. Guess he’s making sure he’s getting his money’s worth.’

‘Hey,’ Jared says again, softer. ‘None of that. Don’t let him get to you.’

Gen sighs, reaching for his hand. ‘C’mon, babe.’

—

They spend a couple of hours holed up in their bedroom, making good use of their favorite strap-on.

The first time they’d done this, both of them had been skeptical: Gen had never pegged a man before, and Jared hadn’t ever been with a beta that way. But amazingly, it had worked. Gen knew exactly what to do to prepare Jared in a way that had been reminiscent of an alpha seeing to his needs, and they had been unusually compatible in their needs: Jared had no desire to penetrate anyone, and Gen was a top, which worked out pretty well for both of them.

Now, Jared gasps aloud as Gen thrusts into him, holding him by the hips, his knees spread wide and his face pressed into the pillow. 

‘Good?’ she whispers, running a soothing hand down his spine.

‘So good,’ Jared says, turning his head to look at her. 

He reaches back with his hand and she clasps his fingers tightly, beginning to fuck him harder as he starts thrusting back against her, giving as good as he gets. He can feel the beginnings of his heat thrumming under his skin like a fever, simultaneously welcome and hated.

‘I’m close,’ Gen says, sounding wrecked. ‘Fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.’

‘Fuck me like you mean it, Cortese,’ Jared growls, arching his back and crying out as she complies. He’s been on edge ever since he woke up that morning. 

‘Look,’ Gen says, gathering a fistful of his hair in her hand and turning his head so he can see them in the mirror.

Jared loves the sight of the belt strapped around Gen’s waist that holds her dildo in place, the way her body leans over his as she fucks him with all her strength, knowing he can take it.

By now, Gen knows his body so well that it only takes a few more thrusts of her hips to get Jared to come untouched. He holds himself up on his hands and knees to allow her to keep going, and the way she grinds against his ass to create friction against her clit allows the head of the dildo to rub repeatedly against his prostate, prolonging his orgasm so shatteringly that his whole body quivers uncontrollably with it.

Gen wraps her arms around him as they come down from their high, her mouth pressed to his shoulder, her lips moving against his skin as she whispers exactly the kind of promises and reassurances he needs.

—

Frank Cortese

Torturing an alpha is one of the most pleasurable things Frank Cortese can think of.

He’s tortured a lot of them in his lifetime. Genevieve doesn’t know. The things his daughter doesn’t know about him could fill the pages of entire volumes of books.

Ackles is a tough one, all right. All cocky arrogance, making it especially gratifying for Frank to give his men the order to strip the slave to the waist and bare his smooth, muscled back for Frank’s special whip. The cat-o-nine-tails, designed to draw blood with every swing of Frank’s practised arm, is used only on exceptional prisoners in extraordinary situations.

The alpha slave makes no sound at all while Frank paints beautiful red stripes into his skin, each blow landing with a satisfying crack. Impressive.

Frank punctuates every blow with every cautionary platitude he can think of about how slaves should know their place.

‘You’d better get the omega knocked up on the first try,’ Frank says pleasantly. ‘And if you so much as look at my daughter, you won’t be breathing when you leave this house.’ 

He trails the whip lightly across the bloody welts on Ackles’s back. The slave twitches, but not so much as a whimper escapes his lips. 

Fucking bastard. He’ll pay for that.

—

Genevieve

‘You had no right.’

Gen’s voice is trembling. So much for remaining calm in the face of her father’s brutality.

‘I did you a favor,’ her father says, sounding almost amused. He takes a sip of his expensive scotch and leans back in his comfortable armchair, crossing his legs elegantly.

Gen’s hands clench into fists at her sides. She can’t get the sight of the alpha’s tortured back out of her mind. ‘Why? Why would you do that? How is it even possible for one human being to do something that cruel to another?’

‘Alpha slaves don’t understand civility. They’re no more human than stallions meant for breeding. You’ll never understand that. If I hadn’t disciplined him, he’d have taken advantage of both you and the omega.’

As she listens to her father talk, Gen suddenly sees, with perfect clarity, what she’s going to do next. It’s like the proverbial clouds drifting away to display a perfectly shiny moon.

‘My husband’s name is Jared,’ she says, mimicking the cool urbanity of her father’s tone, before leaving the study.

—

Jared

‘These are going to leave scars.’

Jared hadn’t thought those would be his first words to the alpha who’s meant to impregnate him.

The alpha is sitting on the edge of the bed, his back impossibly straight given the excruciating pain he must be feeling. He doesn’t respond.

The only way Jared can contain his horror at the scene—his rage at his father-in-law—is to be as clinically dispassionate as he can. Despite his resolve not to betray his emotions, his hands are shaking as he opens the first-aid box—Gen had warned him what to expect—and takes out a tube of antiseptic salve.

‘May I?’ Jared moves into the alpha’s line of sight and holds up the tube.

Ackles blinks, as though noticing him for the first time. ‘What?’

‘Your wounds,’ Jared says, swallowing bile.

The alpha reaches out his hand. ‘I can do that.’

‘Not unless you have extendable arms or something.’

Ackles just shrugs, looking away.

Jared takes it as a sign to proceed.

He cleans the alpha’s wounds as gently as possible, inwardly wincing with every swipe of his wet washcloth over the torn skin. The alpha stays unnervingly still, not making a sound while Jared tends to him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jared says finally, when the worst of the injuries are covered in sticky, soothing ointment. It’s the best he can do for now.

The alpha tilts his head up to look at him. ‘So. How do you want me?’

‘What?’

Ackles gestures between the two of them. ‘We doing this, or what?’

‘We—you’re hurt.’

Ackles shrugs again. ‘You can do all the work, obviously.’

Jared stares at him, eyes wide as his brain unhelpfully supplies him with an image of himself riding the alpha, straddling his body, taking his knot. ‘No,’ he says, swallowing again. ‘I—you can’t expect me to do that to you.’

Ackles laughs, a curiously toneless, mirthless sound. ‘Trust me, I’ve had worse.’

‘I believe you,’ Jared says. 

Then he goes into the bathroom, shuts the door behind him, and throws up violently.

—

Genevieve

‘So, what’s the prognosis?’ Ackles asks as Genevieve enters the guest bedroom.

She glances uneasily at the closed bathroom door. ‘Jared in there?’

Ackles gives her what she’s come to recognize as his trademark twisted grin. ‘Kid doesn’t have the stomach to treat a slave the way it should be treated.’

‘I know what you’re doing,’ Gen says. ‘And it won’t work with me.’

‘What am I doing?’ Ackles’s voice is all faux polite attention, his unnervingly intense gaze fixed on her.

She looks up as the bathroom door opens and Jared comes out, wiping his face with a towel.

‘What happened?’ he asks.

She walks over to him and slips her hand into his, squeezing it hard. ‘We’re leaving,’ she says.

‘Your grandmother’s estate?’

Gen shrugs. ‘Now’s as good a time as any.’

It’s a plan they’ve been discussing for a while. Gen had inherited her mother’s ancestral home, but the laws of the state wouldn’t allow her to claim it as her own: betas could only stake their legal claim on a property if they had alpha guardians, and Gen had been completely unwilling to let Frank Cortese have anything to do with the place they saw as their eventual home. Jared had agreed wholeheartedly. 

‘Someone going to fill me in on what’s going on?’ Ackles asks.

‘Tell him,’ Gen says to Jared, pushing her exhaustion away and rising to her toes to kiss Jared on the lips. ‘I’ll get the paperwork started.’

—

Jared

‘Tell him what?’ Ackles asks as Gen leaves the room.

‘We, uh.’ Jared sits down next to the alpha, pushing his hands back through his hair.

The alpha’s gaze tracks his movements.

‘We have this house,’ Jared continues quickly. His skin is growing warm under the alpha’s intense scrutiny. 

His heat is going to hit. Soon.

‘Well, Gen does,’ he goes on. ‘But—’

‘But you need an alpha caretaker before you both can claim the property,’ the alpha finishes for him, his voice as flatly objective as though he were reading the day’s weather report out loud.

Jared nods. ‘So?’

‘So, what?’

‘Will you do it?’

Ackles raises his eyebrows. ‘Me?’

Jared lets out a hollow laugh. ‘You see any other alphas in sight?’

‘I’m a fucking criminal, Jared.’ 

The alpha’s voice is curiously guileless, and Jared starts at the way his name sounds when spoken by the alpha.

‘It’s a win-win, then, isn’t it?’

Ackles keeps looking at him, eyebrows raised.

‘We get our house,’ Jared goes on, trying to be patient. ‘You get to live as a free man.’ He looks away. ‘You get an omega to fuck anytime you like.’

The alpha is silent for a while. ‘Is that what you want?’ he says finally.

Jared shrugs. ‘Small price to pay for our collective freedom.’ His lips quirk. ‘And I guess I don’t totally hate the idea of having an alpha around whenever I need a knot.’

‘You ever knotted with an alpha before?’ Ackles still sounds infuriatingly objective, but Jared is beginning to understand the alpha a little, now. He’s distracting himself from the pain, carefully, as unobtrusively as he thinks he can. He’s erasing any possibility of being seen as weak. Jared can relate to that.

‘Yes,’ he responds, simply.

‘Was it any good?’

‘It was functional.’ It had always been functional, before Gen. Free alphas weren’t typically known for their concern for their partners’ pleasure. 

‘It usually is.’ Ackles inhales audibly, his eyes closing briefly.

‘You need painkillers,’ Jared says, reaching for the first-aid box. ‘Here.’ He tips a couple of pills into his palm and holds it out.

Ackles accepts them, ignoring the bottle of water that Jared picks up from the nightstand.

‘Indulge me,’ Jared says, unscrewing the cap of the bottle.

Looking amused, Ackles takes a brief swallow of water. ‘May I scent you?’

Jared’s been waiting for the question.

Asking to scent an omega is an age-old ritual that alphas perform in a mostly perfunctory way before staking their claim on an omega. It’s a meaningless social code that Jared has always hated. But this time, he knows it also means something else.

Scenting another person, especially a potential mate, also has a calming effect. The alpha, who’s probably been treated brutally on multiple occasions before today, is craving the soothing effect that scenting an omega, especially one so close to his heat cycle, will bring him.

‘I’d like that,’ Jared says.

He moves into the alpha’s arms, wrapping his own arms around Ackles’s waist, trying not to touch his wounds. 

Ackles holds him carefully, at a slight distance. He brushes his nose against Jared’s hair, moving lower slowly, breathing against Jared’s skin, nosing beneath his ear, a little restless until he seems to find a spot he likes. He stays pressed against Jared as he inhales and exhales slowly, his arms tightening a little.

He smells really fucking good.

‘Alpha,’ Jared says, his face pressed against Ackles’s bare shoulder.

‘Use my name,’ the alpha says, pressing the words into Jared’s skin.

‘Jensen.’

Jensen pulls back a little, reaching out to smooth Jared’s hair out of his eyes. ‘It’s a deal,’ he says. It sounds like a question.

Jared nods his agreement. ‘It’s a deal.’

The three of them leave Frank Cortese’s house for good that night, driving away under cover of darkness.

—

It’s nearly a week later, when Jensen’s official time with them is nearly up, that Jared agrees to go through with the formality of his first knotting with Jensen.

The papers are drawn up, Samantha is happy for all of them, Jensen is increasingly amused at Jared’s stubborn insistence that they hold off until Jensen’s wounds are properly healed, and Gen is so happy at being back in the house she grew up in that Jared takes strength from her smiles, from her certainty that they’re doing what’s best for all three of them.

Frank Cortese has been strangely silent. The storm will come, Jared thinks as he sips his hot chocolate, looking over at his alpha and beta. They’re talking quietly.

‘Jay?’ Gen says.

‘Sorry,’ Jared says. ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘You okay?’ 

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘We were just saying that… that it has to be tonight.’

Jared nods. This is the part he hates. Not the actual sex with Jensen—he’s pretty sure their chemistry is already off the charts of anything he’s felt with an alpha before—but the forced arrangement of it, the inevitability, the lack of choice that any of them have.

‘Hey,’ Jensen says. ‘It’s gonna be fine.’ He gets to his feet, finishing the last of his drink. ‘Take your time,’ he says. ‘I’ll be in the bedroom.’

As he leaves, Gen turns to Jared. ‘Hey, babe,’ she says, soft, reaching for his hand.

‘I’m fine.’ Jared hugs her, holding her close for a long moment.

‘I’ll be right here if you need me.’

‘I know.’

They’d discussed it beforehand, just the two of them, and agreed that it would probably be better, less complicated, for Jared to be alone with Jensen during their first knotting. Gen, ever protective of Jared, had assured him over and over that she wasn’t going to be far away, that if he needed her, then all he had to do was call her name and she’d be there.

Wearing her protectiveness of him like a cloak of reassurance, Jared gives her a last smile and follows his alpha into the bedroom.

—

Epilogue: Jensen

A lot has changed in the last five months.

Jensen has a home again. The kind of home he’d never thought he would have again, after bureaucracy and old hatreds had brought him down, forced him into the slave system as though he’d been a dangerous criminal rather than simply a person who had enemies who had friends in the right places.

After Genevieve and Jared had freed him, given him a new lease of life, he couldn’t really have asked for anything else. But he’d still gotten it, still been given it by some unknown powers somewhere that must really, really like him.

He’d never been sexually aroused by betas and it isn’t going to start now, which is just as well, since Genevieve has never been into alphas.

Jared is the one they both lavish all their attention on. Ever since his first heat with Jensen ended after only two days, and they all knew what that meant.

He’s over four months along now, and both Genevieve and Jensen are so protective of him that he gets exasperated sometimes and goes off alone with the dogs for long walks, leaving them both fretting in his absence and welcoming him back with apologetic and pretty mind-blowing lovemaking when he returns.

At the moment, he’s buried deep inside Jared, his hands cradling Jared’s hips. Genevieve is over by Jared’s head, kissing him sweetly, her palm over the bump on Jared’s stomach. 

‘This okay?’ Jensen asks, his voice rough. 

‘Don’t you dare fucking stop,’ Jared says, reaching for his hand.

‘I wasn’t going to,’ Jensen protests, smiling at him.

‘Come on, Ackles.’ Jared’s thighs close around Jensen’s hips, his hand wrapping around the nape of Jensen’s neck as they kiss. 

He tastes of Gen’s lipstick. There’s something unbearably sensual about the flavor of it in Jared’s mouth. Jensen groans into the kiss, deepening it helplessly, feeling his knot grow.

‘Fuck,’ Jared gasps, his fingernails gentle against the scars on Jensen’s back. Gen’s hand is buried in his hair, tugging his head back just the way he loves, baring his beautiful neck.

They kiss him from either side, Gen pressing a line of kisses down his throat and right shoulder, Jensen burying his face in the left side of Jared’s neck, helpless with arousal and something else that he’ll never put a name to.

‘Jen,’ Jared says, and his voice is like a flame flickering against Jensen’s skin, burning him from the inside out. ‘Gen.’

‘Right here,’ Gen says, answering for them both, knowing that Jensen is too wrecked to speak, with Jared wrapped around him, his knot tying them inseparably.

Their hands meet over Jared’s stomach, all three of them: Genevieve’s, Jared’s, and Jensen’s.

‘I love you,’ Jared says, his voice that unbearably sweet tone of sex-sated and sleepy that Jensen is utterly in love with, saying the words for all three of them.

For all four of them, really.


End file.
